Black River by G. M. Ford Read Free Book Online Page B

the east side of Western Avenue. Nothing needed to be said. They had to get her before she made it out to the traffic on Western.
    The Mercedes only needed the first two hundred yards to close the remaining gap. Gerardo’s mouth hung open as they roared up to the Toyota’s rear end. Ramón braced himself on the dashboard as Gerardo drove the front bumper into the rear of the speeding Toyota, sending the little car careening left and right. For a moment it looked as if she would lose control and either roll the car or slide down into the marsh, where they could easily finish her off. Instead, the Toyota swung wide and then suddenly righted itself for a final dash to the warehouses ahead.
    Ramón leaned out the window, tried to steady his arm on the mirror, and fired two shots. Nothing. He cursed the rocking of the car.
    “Get her,” he said, as much to himself as to Gerardo. “Get her.”
    The Mercedes was fifteen yards behind and gaining fast when she crimped the wheel and tried to turn the Toyota left at full speed. They watched in anticipation as the Toyota began first to slide sideways into the building, then as the car began to raise two wheels to the sky. Through the filthy windshield, Ramón caught a glimpse of the undercarriage as the car began to roll. Gerardo stood on the brakes, sliding the Mercedes around the corner in a controlled power slide. Both men felt certain they had her now. Gerardo babied the gas pedal, ready to move in close. Ramón switched the gun to his left hand and put his right on the door handle, ready to jump out and finish the game.
    Suddenly, a feather of sparks appeared. Instead of flopping over on its side, the Toyota’s roof hit the cinder-block wall, sending the little car bouncing back onto its wheels, careening down the narrow alley like a drunk.
    Again, Gerardo floored the Mercedes. The big car roared forward, throwing Ramón back into the seat. Ramón pushed himself forward. He stuck his head out the window, just as the Toyota turned right at the end of the building, bounced off a fence, and disappeared from view. The rain stung Ramón’s cheeks, as Gerardo slid the car between the building and the fence. And then the world went red and blue.
    A Nationwide moving van was backed up to a loading dock, its massive red-and-blue trailer completely blocking the way. Ramón could see her eyes in the rearview mirror, which explained why she never hit the brakes.
    The Toyota plowed into the trailer at full speed. Gerardo stood on the brakes. Ramón braced himself on the window frame and watched as the nose of the little car ducked under the trailer, as suddenly, yet seemingly in slow motion, the Toyota’s windshield exploded and the car’s top began to peel back like a soup can.
    Gerardo spun the Mercedes in a complete circle, leaving them pointing back the way they’d come. He looked over at Ramón. White spittle had collected at the corners of his mouth. “Go finish her,” he said. “Strike her out.”
    Ramón felt a slight discomfort in his ankle as he jogged toward the Toyota but couldn’t, at that moment, remember what had happened to cause the pain. The remains of the car steamed in the downpour. Some-where in the wreckage an electric fan still whirred. The windshield was dust. The top had been peeled completely back onto the trunk, leaving only the shattered body of the car wedged beneath the trailer.
    He was no more than a dozen feet from the rear of the car when he heard voices. On the far side of the truck, somebody said, “Holy shit.”
    “Robby, call nine-one-one!” shouted another.
    Ramón began to backpedal. When a pair of legs hurried toward the front of the truck, he turned and hustled back to the Mercedes.
    Gerardo wasted no time getting them back around the corner.
    “You finish her?” he asked.
    “No,” Ramón said. “We got tourists.”
    Gerardo stopped the car and looked over at his partner, who, for one of the few times in their twenty years together,